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CLAYTON'S EDITION. 



POPPING THE QUESTION : 

PR 4 265 A FARCE, 

■ B6 P6 

1831 5!" ® ne tfct* 

-opy 1 BY J. B. BUCKSTONE, ESQ. 

flMkt the Labourer, Snake, in the Grass, The Happiest 

L>ay of my Life, <$c rr 



PRINTED FROM THE ACTING COPY, [CUMBERLAND'S 
EDITION,] WITH REMARKS, BIOGRAPHI- 
CAL AJVD CRITICAL, BYD G. 

To which are added, 

A DESCRIPTION OF THE COSTUME,-CAST OF THE CHARACTERS 

ENTRANCES AND EXITS,-RELATIVE POSITIONS 0F 

THE PERFORMERS ON THE STAGE,— AND THE 

WHOLE OF THE STAGE BUSINESS. 

As Performed at the 

THEATRES ROYAL, LONDON. 



PUBLISHED BY E. B. CLAYTON, 

No 9 Chambers-street, 
And C\ NEAL, No. 201 Chestnut-street, Philadelphia 

1831. 



Vi 



•<^<< 






€a$t of tfje £F)aracter£, 

^5 performed at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lcnt % 
March 23, 1830. 

Mr. Primrose, Mr. Farren, 

Henry Thornton, Mr. Lee. 

Ellen Murray, Mrs. JVewcombe. 

Miss Bijjin, Mrs. Glover. 

Miss Winttrblossom, Mrs. Jones. 

Bobbin, Mrs. Oger. 



kit? 9 - 

■ 



REMARKS. 



TriF.uR is nothing tint requires greater delimcy ami 
caution, tlnn what is termed * k Popping the Question;" 
for, unless we resolve to givp a fine lady's nerves an irre- 
coverable shock, we shall adopt that happy ambiguity 
which (like the work of skilful poet or painter) U-aves 
much to the imagination. The old-fashioned modeofm t- 
kmg love, '* will you marry me, my dear Ally Croaker:" 
is perfectly antediluvian. — We must not call a spade a 
Fpade — neither must we speak hy the card, lest prtcipita- 
t/on should undo us — plainness of speech is wholly incom- 
patible with mudern polite courtship ; your well-bred lo- 
ver will just hint a sigh, and hesitate a glance, leaving 
the matter in a deiicate state of uncertainty — " Well,-— 
as you guess!" This making love by implication and 
innuendo is often productive of strange misapprehensions ; 
for so sensitive are some ladies on this tender point — so 
alive to conjugal impressions — that an ogle, inadvertently 
discharged, immediately becomes particular :— each 
cries — *• That was levelled at me .'" Thus, placed between 
the Scylla and Charybdis of courtship, the wiser plan will 
be to follow Hamlet's adviceto the players— not to o'erdo 
termagants or to come tardy off; but, in the very torrent, 
tempest and whirlwind of our passion^to acquire and be- 
get a temperance that may give it smoothness. Virgin- 
ib as pue risque canto ; yet not alone to youths I sing, and 
maidens uninform'd ; but to lovers of more ancient stand- 
ing, to whom, as will appear in the sequel, this advice is 
more immediately applicable. 

Mr Henry Primrose, one of those precise, neat, trimly- 
dressed old gentlemen, without whom no tea or card ta- 
ble is considered complete, becomes violently smitten 
with his ward, Ellen Murray ; but how topop the question 
with due decorum is the rub. The young lady, not a- 
ware of her guardian's matrimonial intentions, has alrea- 
dy provided herself with a lover, in case of need, in tho 
person of a second Henry, whose surname is Thornton, 



,4 REMARKS. 

By the artful contrivance of her abigail, Bobbin, the gen- 
tleman is smuggled into the house during the temporary 
absence of Mr. Primrose. In the midst of a very tender 
scene, the old bachelor most inopportunely returns, Mr. 
Henry Thornton makes a precipitate retreat into an ad- 
joining room, and every thing is put straight and in or- 
der, as if nothing had happened. Having fully made up 
his mind to pop the" question, Mr Primrose, by way of 
prelude, puts on an air of particular kindness and conde- 
scension, and just ventures a conjugal hint ; this raises a 
doubt in the mind of the lady, whether the old Argus 
has not in reality discovered her secret. An ambiguous 
reply, which proves Miss Ellen nothing loth to change 
her condition, inspires her ancient Corvdon with fresh 
courage — he expatiates on the delights of the tender pas- 
sion, promises her the man of her choice, and carries on 
a scene of such amorous equivoque, that Miss, applying 
these tender phrases to her lover elect, talks of her * k dear 
Henry .'" This fairly transports Mr. Primrose — her u dear 
Henry .'" he has now proof positive that he, Henry Prim- 
rose, is the chosen swain : he therefore resolves to put 
himself in conjugal order, and to be married forthwith. 
As a preliminary step, he makes it a point of civility to 
consult two maiden ladies of his acquaintance, Miss 
Winterblossom and Miss Biffin, for whose opinions 
he entertains great reverence. To them he pops the 
question with his accustomed ambiguity, so that each 
lady is led to conclude that she is the especial object 
of his regard ; and, being neither young nor sore afraid, 
they soon capitulate, and consent to make him happy. 
The courtship scene, between Mr. Primrose and Miss Bif- 
fin, is full of laughable equivoque. The amorous dal- 
liance of the old maid, to whom a word on the subject of 
courtship and matrimony is like a spark upon gunpowder 
— 'her facility in catching the idea, and anticipating all 
that Mr. Primrose would seem to say, is extremely whim- 
sical. After Mr. P. has hied forth to consult the old la- 
dies, Henry the younger emerges from his concealment ; 
when, aided by the cogent arguments of Bobbin, he 
prevails on his mistress to make the best use of her time, 
by instantly repairing to the church. Miss Biffin now 
indulges in a matrimonial vision, plans a variety of 
alterations in the apartments, talks of learning the piano % 
and threatens to curtail the frolics of her future hus- 



REMARKS. O 

band, in regard to pinching the arms of other ladies. 
While wrapped in this delightful reverie, she receives a 
visit from Miss Winter blossom, a pursey spinster, nigh 
fifty, fat and bandy, — 

** Wig like a cauliflower, 
Neck like a jolly tower ;" 

and here a fresh scene of equivoque ensues ; for, bred in 
the polite school of Mr. Primrose, they ask one another to 
become bridesmaid in such ambiguous terms, that they 
both seem to consent ; an explanation ensues, and un- 
bounded is the rage of the rival queens. Miss Biffin, — 

11 A haughty Juno, of majestic size, 
With cow-like udders, and with ox-like eyes," 

is unmercifully satirical on her squat rival, Miss Winter- 
blossom ; who, nothing daunted, bustles up to Miss Bif- 
fin, and bullies the monument. She holds the mirror up 
to t7/-nature, and bids Miss B. contemplate her own 
gigantie proportions. In the midst of this wild uproar, 
Mr. Primrose enters: the whole place is in disorder; 
chairs and tables overturned, and the two ladies just 
beginning to show fight. The prim bachelor quickly un- 
deceives them, by proclaiming the real object of his flame. 
This draws down their combined fury on his head ; they 
chase him round the room, and deafen him with their re- 
proaches. He takes courage — becomes equally com- 
plimentary ; declaring that he would as soon think of 
marrying Adam's grandmother, as the Misses Biffin arid 
Winterblossom, adding, that he shall shortly have a 
wife, and consequently, a protector ! The matrimonial 
party now enter, and the laugh takes a strong turn 
against Mr. Primrose, who, after enduring the cross-fire 
of the two disappointed old maids, promises never 
again to pop the question, it being a saying of his friend, 
Lord North's, that it is easier to get a wife than to get 
rid of one. 

The idea of this farce is taken from one of the An- 
nuals. It is humorously worked up by Mr. Buckstone, 
The principal characters, Mr. Primrose and Miss Biffin, 
$je admirably supported by Mr. Farren and Mrs. Glover, 

0?= D G< 



COSTUME, 

MR. PRIMROSE.— Old-fashioned dove coloured 
coat — white waistcoat — nankeen breeches — light brown 
and white-striped silk-stockings— shoes and buckles- 
white hat — nosegay— umbrella — George wig. — {The 
clothes of the cut of 1789.) 

HENRY THORNTON.— Blue coat, with brass but- 
tons — corduroy smalls — top-boots — buff waistcoat — co- 
loured silk kerchief — drab hat. 

ELLEN MURRAY— First dress: White muslin 
fashionable dress, flowered flounce, &c. — Second dress t 
White scarf and bonnet. 

MISS BIFFIN.— Dressed in the fashion of the year 
1789.— Dove-coloured silk-gown— white satin petticoat, 
with targe leno flounces— white muslin rufBes — apron — 
cap,-with satin ribbon — stomacher of the same — a neck- 
lace of white large beads — very large gold ear-rings — 
high powdered tete — high shoes — black mittens, and fan. 

MISS WINTERBLOSSOM.— Dressed in the fashion 
of the year 1789.— Crimson gown — white satin quilted 
petticoat, and white flowers — black lace apron — lace 
rufflss — white satin mantle, with lace edging — cap and 
stomacher, trimmed with white satin ribbon — fan — high 
shoes black tete. 

BOBBIN. — First dress: Flowered muslin sprigr 
short-sleeved gown — white cap, with blue ribbon. — Se- 
cond dress : Red scarf — white bonnet, with blue ribbon. 



STAGE DIRECTIONS. 

The conductors of this work print no Plays but those 
which they have seen acted. The Stage Directions 
are given from personal observations during the most 
recent performances. 

EHTS and ENTRANCES. 

R means fight; L. Left; F. the Rat, or Scene run. 

ning acro99 the back of the Stage; D. F. Donr in Flat ; 

R D. R'ght Door; L. D. Left Door; S E. Second 

Entrance ; U. E. Upper Entrance ; C D. Centre Door. 

RELATIVE POSITIONS. 

R. means Rkht ; L. Left; C. Centre ; R. C. Right 
of Centre ; L. C. Left of Centre. 

R. RC. C. LC. L. 

*V* The reader is supposed to bs on the Stage, facing the Jlttditnet* 



POPPING THE QUESTION 



ACT I. 

SCENE 1. — An Apartment, with folding doors, 
c. f.— A window, l. s. e. — door R.and l. 

Ellen discovered, working embroidery at a table, 
it. — and Bobbin, seated at a table, l., trimming a 
cap, and singing. 

Bob. I must confess, I give the preference to 
London -above any place in England. 

Ellm. Oh, Bobbin ! you have been brought up 
there, and may, perhaps, feel thedulness of a coun- 
try town more than I, who have seldom left one. 

Bob. All the young men are such boobies : if a 
pretty girl but favours one of them with a glance, 
the oaf reddens up, ogles his top-boots, smooths 
down his hair, and continues as dumb as Mrs. Sal- 
mon's wax-work. I would set my cap at the apothe- 
cary, but I understand Miss Bitfen has teased his 
life out, and confirmed him in his resolution of re- 
maining in single blessedness. At ail events, 1 pro- 
pose trying my fortune with an elderly gentleman 
—such a nice, prime, clean old darling as Mr. 
Primrose. 

Ellen. Have you observed, Bobbin, how changed 
he is lately? He used to laugh and gossip, and tell 
long stories of Dean Swift, and sing his favourito 
song of '* Lovely Phillis. charming fair," and be so 
lively, that his company was quite pleasant. 

Bob. And now he^uts on his cravat with twico 
the precision he used to do — breathes sighs deep 
enough to inflate one of Mr. Thingumy's ballooni 
—ha* voted sauif taking a disease— and absolute!/ 



8 POPPING THE QUESTION. [Act V 

cultivates a peach blossom complexion. It strikes 
me, miss, that he is in love. 

Ellen, Love, at his time of life ! 

Bob. He's not so very old, madam. Oh, these 
quiet, elderly gentlemen, are sometimes worth half 
a dozen of your noisy, rakish young ones. 1 won- 
der who is the object of his affections 1 

Ellen. Surely, neither of the old maids. 

Bob. What, Miss Biffin and Miss Winterblos- 
som ? I don't know. He's played at cribbage with 
both of 'em, and that's a very mischievous game. 
I've known many an elderly heart captivated over 
a flush of diamonds ; and a forty-year-old toe ten- 
derly trod on at a fifteen-two. [Jumping up hasti- 
ly, and looking out of the ivindoiv, l. s. e] As I 
live, there's Henry Thornton, looking up at our win- 
dow. How do? how do ? [Nodding. 

Ellen. [Rising.] What are you about, Bobbin ? 

Bob. Come here, come here. [Beckoning.] No- 
body's at home. Here he comes — I know he wishes 
to see you very sadly; I'll run and open the door 
to him, for he's the tidiest young man I've seen be- 
tween this and the Green Park. [Exit, l. d. 

Ellen. I hope Mr. Primrose will not return while 
he's here — it will look so suspicious; and lately he 
has disapproved of visiters. 

Re-enter Bobbin, l. d. 

Bob. Come in, young man. 

Enter Henry Thornton, l. d. 

Tien. [Crossing to Ellen.] Ah, my dear Ellen! 
I've been anxiously waiting to see you, since clay- 
break. I'm in despair — I'm wretched. 

Bob. (l. c.) What, in the presence of two such 
little loves as missus and I. 

Hen. (r. c.) My friends wish to settle me in some 
permanent employ— their wishes have extended as 
far as India — an appointment has been obtained 
for me there — I have no excuse for refusing it — 1 



Scene I.] POPPING THE QUESTION. 9 

must depart immediately, and may, perhaps, never 
see you more. 

Bob. Without Miss Ellen runs away with you 

Hen. Or I am instantly married: that event 
might occasion a delay, and then I might fortunate- 
ly lose the situation. Dear Ellen, pronounce my 
fate. [Kneeling.] That I adore you, you are well 
aware : let us, then, fly to the church this instant — 
my friends will see the impropriety of hurrying 
a young bride from her native country — we shall 
remain in England together for ever, and be the 
happiest pair in the universe. 

Bob. Bravo, bravo ! [Patting his back.] In all 
my experience, I never heard the question so capi- 
tally popped. 

Ellen. But my guardian 

Bob. A.sk his consent at once — explain the urgent 
circumstances, and he'll not object. 

Ellen. I'll give him a hint of my wishes, however. 

Bob. A hint — no, no — speak out boldly : say, 
"Sir, I want to be married." If you merely give 
hints, they make so many little loop-holes for a con- 
sent to creep out of. Hark! what's that ? I heard 
the house door shut. It's Mr. P. 

Ellen. [Confused.] Gracious, Henry! he must 
not see you here. 

Bob. Put yourself out of sight for an instant — I'll 
soon get him away again : I'll tell him Miss Biffin's 
broke her arm, or in a fit, and he'll fly to her in a 
moment. He's on the stairs — in with you. [Open- 
ing the folding- doors c, and pushing Henry, who 
is kissing his hand to Ellen.] Now, don't stand kiss- 
ing your fingers there, or I'll throw you out of the 
window. In, in, and be quiet. 

[She hurries Henry into the room at the folding- 
doors, c« f., and closes them. — Ellen sits down 
at the table to work, r. — Bobbin snatches up 
her cap, sits down at the table, l., and begins 
working, and singing again, " Meet me by 
moonlighfalone." 

B 



10 POPPING THE QUESTION. [Act I. 

Enter Primrose, thoughtfully, l. d. 

Pri. (l.c.) What a lovely morning ! not a particle 
of dust flying — quite a pleasure to walk. I've been 
strolling alone for the last half-hour in the sunshine, 
and have come to a conclusion that 1 must marry 
— yes, Henry Primrose, you ought to marry — you 
were not formed to lie alone. Dear, there's a 
speck of black upon my white kid gloves ! how pro- 
voking. I'll be married, I'm resolved, and will 
immediately consult with Miss Biffin and Miss Win- 
terblossom upon the subject. If they see no im- 
propriety in the act, I shall instantly put myself into 
conjugal order, and prepare for the momentous 
epoch. Eh! bless me ! there's the dear object of 
my affections ; — I thought I was alone. Well, El- 
len, my dear, at your work, eh? 

Ellen. [Rising and advancing, r. c] Yes, Mr. 
Primrose. 

Pri. (c.) Bobbin. 

Bob. [Rising and advancing, l. c] Yes, sir. 

Pri. Take my hat and umbrella — you know 
where to put my umbrella — and hang the hat on 
the third peg from the door. [Bobbin crosses to r,] 
Have you brushed my spencer? 

Bob. Yes, sir. 

Pri. And put it carefully away in my wardrobe ? 

Bob. Yes, sir. 

Pri. That's a good girl — I like every thing tidy. 

Bob. That's the reason you are so partial to me* 

[Exit Bobbin, r. 

Pri. Miss Ellen Murray, I wish to speak with you. 

Ellen. [Aside, r. c] I hope he did not see Henry 
come in. 

Pri. [Handing a chair.} Allow me to place your 
chair near mine. Sit down, Ellen — stop, there's 
a thread of silk in the chair. Miss Ellen, I wish to 
touch upon a very serious subject. 

Ellen. [ Aside.] Bless me ! he must have seen 
Henry come in, and thinks me sly. 

Pri. Hem! You have, doubtless, observed a 
change in my disposition lately ? 



Scene I.] POPPING THE QUESTION. 11 

Ellen, Not for the worse, I'm sure, sir. 

Pri. [Smiling,] You think not. Whatever change 
you may have observed, has been caused by anxie- 
ty for you, my dear. In short, it is my wish that 
you should be married. 

Ellen. Well, that's singular : I was endeavour- 
ing to gain courage to speak upon the same sub- 
ject myself. 

Pri. How delightful ! what a collision of senti- 
ment ! Now we shall be able to discuss the matter 
unrestrained — without any of your sentimental and 
whalebone preliminaries. I'm convinced you 
would make any man a good wife. Now I would 
wish to put the question as delicately as possible : 
do you love me ? 

Ellen. I always respected you, sir. 

Pri. And you have no objection to matrimony? 

Ellen. What single young lady has, sir ? 

Pri. Amiable truism ! you are perfectly acquaint- 
ed with my disposition ? 

Ellen. You have ever been kind and attentive. 

Pri. To speak candidly — would you wish for a 
husband better tempered than myself? 

Ellen. That I should not, indeed, sir! 

Pri. And you would not decidedly object to a 
man like myself? a youth with the world before 
him — eb ? 

Ellen. [Aside.] I can't say I should prefer one a 
a little younger — it might offend. 

Pri. You would not object to a man like myself? 

Ellen. [Hesitating.] No — no — no, sir. 

Pri. Her hesitation convinces me that I am not 
indifferent to her. Ellen, you shall immediately 
be married. 

Ellen. Shall I, indeed, sir? 

Pri. And to the man of your choice, too. 

Ellen. Now I do love you. Oh, my dear 
Henry ! how happy you will be. 

Pri. That he will, indeed ! [Aside.] Dear Hen- 
ry! she never expressed herself so tenderly be- 
fore. [Aloud.] I'm delighted to find you are so rea- 



12 POPPING THE QUESTION. [Act I. 

dy to comply with my wish. Yes, Ellen, your 
dear Henry is the man that can make you truly 
happy — that can make this terrestrial globe a celes- 
tial paradise. Dear Ellen, allow me to [Is about 

to kiss her, but stops.] Stop, you've a little speck 
upon your nose — permit me— [Takes out a folded 
white handkerchief- — a crash is heard in the chamber, 
c d. f. — Jumping up.] Bless me ! what's that? 
Ellen. [Rising hastily — aside.] How unlucky ! 

Re-enter Bobbin, r. d. — She checks Primrose, as 
he is about to open the folding- doors. 

Bob. Old Carlo has knocked down the globe of 
gold fish. 

Pri. And the turkey carpet will be ruined — let 
me see. 

Bob. No, no, I'll look at it. Carlo, Carlo — come 
here, sir. 

Pri. [Struggling with Bobbin.] Stand aside, 
and let me see the mischief. 

Ellen goes up to the table, r., pushes off the em- 
broidery frame, and screams out. 

Ellen. Oh! 

Pri. [Tenderly.] What's the matter, dear? 

Ellen. The large needle has prick'd my finger. 

Pri. Let me bind it — which is the finger ? 

Ellen. I don't know — it's one of them, 

Pri. It must be this. [Binds one of her fingers.] 
There, there — don't disturb it. 

Re-enter Bobbin, c. d. f m locking the door after her. 

Bob. It was the screen, that had fallen down, 
sir ; that was all. However, I've lock'd the door, 
in case the naughty old dog should get in, and find 
out the fish. 

Pri. This little fright has quite discomposed me. 

Bob. Sir, Miss Winterblossom has sent her ser- 
vant, sir, to know if you were out — 1 — I think she*s 
taken seriously ill, sir. 

Pri. Indeed ! poor lamb, I must fly to her as- 
sistance. My hat, Bobbin. [Exit Bobbin, r. d ] 



Scene I.] POPPING THE QUESTION. 13 

Then I can ask her advice, and obtain her consent 
to my union at the same time. [Aside. 

Re-enter Bobbin, r. d., with a hat and umbrella. 

Bob. Here's your hat, sir, and your umbrella. 
Pri. [To Ellen.] I hope, love, that we perfectly 
understand each other. 

Bob. Suppose Miss Winterblossom should have 
met with an accident, sir. 

Pri. I'll step to her instantly; Bobbin, leave the 
room — I — I'm busy. 

Bob. [ Aside — going.] I shall never get him out of 
the house. [Exit, r. d. 

Pri. (r.) All my desire is, to see you happy. 
Ellen, (l.) And you will see me happy, sir. 
Pri. [Aside.] Bless her, how frank and free she 
is. [Aloud.] As to your fortune, that shall be left 
entirely at your own disposal : I shall return soon, 
love ; therefore, do not neglect in my absence any 
little arrangement that may be necessary to the 
forthcoming change in your situation; when a cou- 
ple perfectly understand each other, delay is ever 
a damper. Mr. Pilbury, of Aldermanbury, courted 
Miss Spoonbill nine years, and the young lady died 
of a consumption at the commencement of the tenth 
— therefore, take advantage even of my temporary 
absence, to complete any little affair, that may ex- 
pedite your views. I never felt so happy, in all 
my days. [Crossing to l.] When one's happy, one 
buttons one's coat up with such gusto ! — All that is 
now required, is the consent of Miss Biffin and Miss 
Winterblossom. 

Ellen. Their consent ! 

Pri. Since I have resided here, we have ever 
consulted each other upon our little intentions. — 
I'll put the question as delicately as possible — they 
are ladies that are well acquainted with the world. 
Ellen. If an existence of some forty or fifty years 
can give them the knowledge, I admit that they are. 
Pri. Sweet satirist! An Aristophanes in French 

B2 



I 



14 POPPING THE QUESTION. [Act 1, 

curls and muslin ; — at all events, I think it necessa- 
ry to mention it. 

Ellen* Perhaps he wishes', at the same time, to 
marry with one of them. [Aside,] Ah, sir ! there's 
something very suspicious in your frequent visits to 
these ladies. 

Pri. [Laying his hand upon his heart, and bowing.] 
Upon my honour, perfectly Platonic. [Aside.] A 
little jealous already — oh, I shall be a happy man. 

Ellen. You will make a match there shortly, I 
dare say. 

Pri. I think not. — I did endeavour to bring the 
lame attorney and Miss Biffin together, but she 
made the attorney dance after her so much, that 
he sent in his bill, charging her with letters and at- 
tendances, and so the affair ended : she's a sensible 
woman for all that. Now, remember my injunctions. 
Farewell, for the present, love. I'm merely going 
to Miss Winterblossom's — gad ! I wish the happy 
event could take place immediately — but we must 
not be too impatient. Bless those flushing, beautiful 
eyes ! if I had time, I could say something very 
gallant, — a kiss, however, will assure you of my 
sincerity. [Kisses her very gently.] Adieu ! for the 
present. Gad! I ca'nt be more than five-and- 
twenty ! I feel such elasticity in every limb — and 
such a feeling jauntiness all over me — 'adieu, love ! 
you see how happy I am — if Miss Biffin and Miss 
Winterblossom will but consent, odds, buds ! we'll 
have a day of it. [&m#s.] " Lovely Phillis, charm- 
ing fair !" [Exit, l. d* 

Enter Bobbin, r. i>. 

Bob. Who would have thought of this, madam? 
I put my ear to the key-hole, and heard almost 
every word. 

Ellen. It is delightfully strange, indeed. 

Bob, Hark ! there goes the door ; he's gone- 
come out, you clumsy dog. 

[Unlocks thefoldi?ig-door r c. r* 



Scene I.] POPPING THE QUESTION. 15 

Re-enter Henry Thornton, c. d. f. 

Bob. Come out, sir ; how could you be tumbling 
over the chairs at such a moment? You frightened 
us out of our wits. 

Ellen. You heard the conversation ? 

Henry. Yes, my soul ! and, I don't think we can 
furnish the old gentleman a pleasanter surprise, 
than by flying to the church instantly. 

Bob. That would be charming ! Besides, he told 
you not to neglect any thing, during his absence. 

Henry, And really wished, that the event could 
occur to-day ; I have a license ready. I dared to 
hope that you would not see me leave you for ever, 
and therefore made every provision. 

[Shotting a license. 

Bob. You do deserve to win your fair lady ! I'd 
give a month's wages for such a determined lover. 
Oh, Miss ! put on your bonnet — don't let the op- 
portunity slip, for the world. It will be so funny — 
such a thing to talk of, when you are old folks, you 
know — so, just step out and get married imme- 
diately. 

Ellen. I'm afraid. 

Bob. Afraid, nonsense ! it's nothing more than a 
dip in the sea, all over after the first souse : besides, 
think of the old maids — they may alter Mr. P.'s mind. 

Henry i Ay ! should they make any objection, it 
might be fatal. 

Bob. [Bringing a looking-glass.] Here, madam ; 
here are our bonnets and scarfs — how lucky I hap- 
pened to trim a cap this morning. [Puts it on at 
the glass.] I declare, I look quite nice! Come, 
Miss, put on your bonnet. Henry, have you a ring ? 

Henry. No ; what's to be done ? 

Bob. Never mind ; don't be agitated : I've my 
grandmother's in my purse — it fits Miss Ellen ex- 
actly ; she has often tried it on. 

Ellen. But this is too hurried — too sudden. 

Bob. But it's your guardian's wish. 

Henry. Think of separation for ever — think of 
India. 

63 



16 POPPING THE QUESTION. [Act I. 

Bob. Shipwrecks and wild beasts. 

Henry. The value of the time present. 

Bob. The wishes of Mr. P. 

Henry, The agreeable surprise it will occasion. 

Bob. The license ready. 

Henry. My love for you. 

Bob. My wish to be a bridesmaid, that I may be 
married before the year's out. 

Henry. Come, love, come. 

Bob. [Going, l.] Ah! there's Miss Biffin at the 
foot of the stairs 

Henry. What shall we do ? 

Bob. Objection in her looks. 

Henry. We must avoid her. 

Bob. As you would a bailiff — we'll go out at the 
back door. 

Henry. Lead the way, Bobbin. 

Bob. To the church 

Henry. And happiness. [Exeunt, r. d. 

Enter Miss Biffin, l. d. 

Miss B. Anybody here? I certainly heard a 
most extraordinary noise. Though they said that 
Mr. P. was not within, I thought I'd just step up to 
be convinced. There seems to have been a confu- 
sion of some sort in the room ; surely, Mr. Primrose 
has not been romping with his ward. Very singu- 
lar ! Where can he be ? — Gone to Miss Winterblos- 
som's, perhapi. I wonder what his intentions are 
in that quarter, — nothing serious, I hope. I can't 
read Mr. P. at all — can't make him out. If he 
speaks tenderly to me one moment, he repeats the 
little endearment to Miss Winterblo»som, the next. 
It is now time I should know which of us he really 
intends to decide upon, because I may thoughtlessly 
allow my heart to go too far. — Hush ! I hear some 
one on the stairs, — it is his step ; glad I waited. 
How do I look ? [Looking in the glass.] My hat 
becomes me amazingly ! 



Scene I.] POPPING THE QUESTION. 17 

Enter Primrose, l. d. 

Pri. What, Miss Biffin ! Good morning. You are 
the very person I was thinking of, and wishing to see. 

Miss B. That my thoughts and wishes coincide 
with yours, is evident from my presence here. 
You'll join our palm-loo party, this evening, I hope. 
The curate will be one of us. You, of course, will 
beau Miss Winterblossom ? 

Pri. We'll arrange that affair, presently. Pray 
he seated. [Miss Biffin sits, c.] Miss Winterblos- 
som has fully consented to my marriage with Ellen, 
^nd, if Miss Biffin be equally kind, then there is 
nothing to retard my happiness. Bless me, what a 
litter the room is in ! the tambour-frame prostrate, 
chairs out of their places, — a dressing glass here ! — 
Bobbin! Ellen! [Goes to the door.] Ellen, poor 
child ! she has retired to meditate upon her ap^ 
proaching condition. — Very natural! Now for Miss 
B. : I'll just turn the snap of the door, then we shall 
iUot be interrupted. 

Miss B. He's fastened the door ! — Mr. P. ! 

Pri. [Crossing to l.] Sit down, my dear Miss B. 
Now for the other. [Secures the other door. 

Miss B. what can this mean ? I'm a little uneasy 1 

Pri. Now, Miss B. [Draws his chair close to her 
— she retreats.] Eh ! why do you retreat ? I merely 
wish to put a question as delicately as possible, re- 
specting an affair very essential to my happiness. 

Miss B. Oh ! indeed ! [Drawing nearer.] I should 
not wonder but he's going to make a proposal. 

[Aside. 

Pri. [Taking her hand.] My dear Miss B.-^— 

Miss B. [Simpering.] Sir ! 

Pri. Lap-dog quite well ? 

Miss B. Not very well. Poor dear, thing ! ate 
too many stewed oysters last night. 

Pri. Indeed! Hem! the subject upon which I 
am about to venture to speak, is of so peculiar a 
nature, that my dear Miss Biffin must excuse any 
want of connexion in the detail. 

Miss B. [Simpering.] I believe — I think — lima- 
B 4 



18 POPPING THE QUESTION. [Act I. 

gine I understand your meaning, sir. Pray com- 
pose yourself. 

Pri. You understand me ? Then, madam, this — 
this attachment, of which I would speak, you are 
acquainted with? 

Miss B. [Sighing.] I own, I have suspected it. 

Pri. Have you, indeed? 1 imagined no one 
could have perceived it. But love, my dear Miss 
Biffin, is like the hunted ostrich, that hides his head 
only, and fancies his whole body is concealed. 

Miss B. [Aside.] Something always whispered 
that I was his choice. 

Pri. May I, then, dare to hope that this too, too 
tender affection for one of the most deserving of 
her sex, merits Miss Biffin's approbation ? 

Miss B. Sir, I protest I was not fully prepared 
— that is, my agitation is such, that I can scarcely 
reply. 

Pri, How sweetly sympathetic ! Yet, pardon, if 
I say I cannot allow you to leave this place, without 
knowing the sentiments of one whose judgment i& 
so paramount. 

MissB. Well, Mr. P., to be candid, [Sighing,] 
if 1- must answer — [Sidling,] — if you will take ad- 
vantage of my agitation, [Smiling.] I do own, 
your merit commands my approbation; your pro- 
posal has my concurrence. 

Pri. Then I'm the happiest of men ! Your ap- 
probation, only, was wanting to perfect my felicity; 
without that, I could not have ventured to complete 
the union, dear as it is to my heart. 

Miss B, [Rather amazed,] Of course not. 

Pri. I have mentioned the affair to Miss Winter- 
blossom ; and, so far from throwing any obstacle in 
the way, the dear lady seemed quite delighted. 

Miss B, [Sneeringly,] Any obstacle she might 
have offered could have made no difference. 

Pri, [Rising.] No, no ; but I thought it right to 
name it : it is fit one should learn the opinions of 
one's friends upon such an occasion. But don't 
stir yet, my dear Miss B. [Rising.] I must now 
hasten to expedite matters. I saw a parcel of deli- 



Scene I.] POPPING THE QUESTION. 19 

cate white kid gloves, to be disposed of, in the 
next street — I'll run and secure the bargain ; so, 
don't stir — I'll return again immediately, — make 
yourself quite at home while I'm gone. You must 
not wonder at any little discrepancies in my con- 
duct, for I shall now be in such a bustle for a week 
or two, that I may commit the strangest vagaries 
and be quite unconscious. I knew you would 
offer no objection. — Now for licenses, true-lover's 
knots, wedding-rings, bride-cakes, cradles, and 
caudles — eh, Miss Biffin ? I feel myself a married 
man already. A bachelor ! of what use is he ? 
what end does he answer? None, "but to act the 
part of a walking-stick in the street, or a screen at 
a tea-party ; to run 'errands for ladies, and fetch 
and carry like a Dutch pug. I'll be a married man, 
Miss Biffin, the head of a house, the father of a 
family; children and grand-children shall crowd 
about me, and my path shall bestrewed with prim- 
roses. There's a picture, eh, my dear ? Oh, I 
shall be a happy fellow ! 

[Unfastens the door, l., and exit. 
Miss B. [Rising.] How elated he seems. At 
length, I am about to be a bride. Mr. P. has 
popp'd the question. What new and singular 
emotions fill my heart? Very strange he should 
talk about a license, before he has named the day ; 
but excess of joy makes one heedless of formalities. 
[Looking around.] This house will be mine ; what 
alterations I'll make; I'll. have handsome pink 
curtains for that window, throw these two apart- 
ments into an elegant dancing-room, and have a 
lovely loo-table in the centre. I'll show Mr. P. a 
little of my taste; and, that we may pass the 
honey-moon more pleasantly, I'll commence learn- 
ing the piano. As for Miss Ellen, I shall not allow 
her and Mr. P. to be too much together — she shall 
keep more to her own room. I'll make a thorough 
reform in all Mr. P.'s habits. Some one is coming 
up-stairs. — Dear, dear ! strange, to be sure ! The 
very person I was thinking of, to be my bridesmaid. 
My dear Miss Winterblossom ! 



a* i-uiniNG THU UUESTION. [Act I. 

Enter Miss Winterblossom, l. d. 

Miss W. My love! Good morning, dear! [They 
kiss each other.] So pleased to see you. I've been 
to your house, was told you were not at home, 
guessed you were here, and find I am right in my 
conjecture. P. at home, dear ? 

Miss B. He will be here instantly ; he has just 
stepped out for a moment, love. Sit down. 

Miss W. (l. c.) [Aside.] How astonished she 
will be to hear that Mr. Primrose has offered 
me his hand — has popp'd the question at last. 

Miss B. (c.) You- complaiaed of rheumatism 
last night, — better, love ? 

Miss W. Did I complain ?— Oh, yes, T recollect, 
I did cry out : It was only a little ruse, dear. The 
fact was, as Mr. P. passed me, to hand Miss Po- 
cock her chocolate, he pinched my arm to such a 
degree, that I was glad to make that an excuse. 

MissB. Did Mr. P. pinch your arm? 

Miss W. Yes, dear. 

Miss B. How very incorrect ! What could he be 
thinking of? I'll mention the subject severely. [Aside. 

Miss W. But sit down, dear. You have seen 
Mr. Primrose this morning, I suppose. [They sit. 

Miss B. Oh, yes. 

Miss W. Did he touch upon a delightful subject? 

Miss B. I must confess he did, love. 

Miss W. Then he has opened all to you, has he ? 
He told me, when he left my house, that he should 
do so. 

MissB. He has perfectly explained his sentiments. 

Miss W. Well, then, love, you and I have been 
acquainted many years 

MissB. Not so very many years. 

Miss W. No, no, dear ; but a long time, you know. 

Miss B. Yes, my love. 

Miss W. And we have ever been the best of friends. 

Miss B. Yes, dear. 

Miss W. Therefore, I've a little favour to beg, 
which I am sure you will not refuse. 

Miss B. I think I can guess what it is, my dear. 



Scene I.] POPPING THE QUESTION. 21 

Miss W. I dare say you do, love. — You know 
there must be a bridesmaid on the occasion. 

•Miss B. Precisely what I was thinking of* 

Miss W. Now, I should be very happy, my dear 
Miss Biffin 

Miss B. I understand, my dear friend. Un- 
doubtedly, I wish it to be so. 

Miss W. For I'm sure that you, in preference to 
any other in the world, I should be delighted to 
have as my bridesmaid. 

Miss B. Your bridesmaid, Miss Winterblossom { 
*— Oh, yes, yes, certainly ; I promise, when you are 
married. 

Miss W. When I'm married, dear Biffin ? You're 
bewildered ! 

MissB. No, love ; 'tis you that are bewildered. 
Did you not jusl ask to accompany me as my brides- 
maid ? 

Miss W. When ? Where ? What do you mean ? 
You are jesting. 

Miss B. Indeed, I am not, Miss Winterblossom ; 
this is no jesting matter. 

Miss W. You don't comprehend me, Miss Biffin. 
■ — In a word, do you wish to appear as my friend, 
on my approaching union with Mr. Primrose ? 

Miss B. Your union, ma'am ? 

Miss W. Yes, ma'am : Mr. P. has, as you know, 
this very morning, made proposals. 

MissB. Yes, to me. 

Miss W. To you ? Mr. P. propose to marry you? 
Impossible ! He came to me, not an hour since, 
and implored me to favour his attachment, and 
mentioned marriage. Did you not, this moment, 
say he had told you of it ? 

Miss B. Of his affection forme ; and he certainly 
said that he had informed you of it; which, though 
I considered a liberty, without consulting me, I 
overlooked in him at the time. Had he known 
that I was thus to be insulted, he would have placed 
his confidence elsewhere. [They rise. 

Miss W. I tell you, ma'am, that I am the object 
ofMr.P.'s choice! 



22 POPPING THE QUESTION. [Act L 

MissB. Woman, 'tis false ! 

Miss W. If he's in the house, I'll call him. Mr, 
P. ! Mr. P. ! [Goes to the door, l., and calls. 

Miss B. Don't make that disturbance here. Mr. 
P. is not in the house, ma'am. 

Miss W. When he returns, he shall convince you 
himself of his intention to marry me. 

Miss B. You ! marry you, you ugly old wretch ! 

Miss W. What do you say, madam ? — Ugly ! 
there, look there, madam ! [Fetching the glass from 
the table, r., and presenting it to her.] Look at your- 
self in that glass, and then be convinced of the utter 
untruth of your assertion ; of the total impossibility 
of any body ever marrying you. 

Miss B. How dare you insult me in this manner, 
miss ? — I'll ring the bell for the servant to turn you 
out. 

Miss W. Turn me out ! out of my own house 
that is to be ! 

Miss B. Your house ? — Oh, I shall faint! 

MissW. Turn me out, indeed ! who will dare to 
attempt it? — Don't imagine I'm to be frightened, 
madam; I can show a proper spirit, madam! 
[Throwing the furniture about the room.'] There, 
there ! 

Miss B. Desist, madam — desist ! 

Miss W* [Crossing to l., and throwing up the 
window, l. s. k.] Help ! murder ! Mr. P. ! Mr. P. ! 

MissB. Come away from the window, madam, 
and don't disgrace this house. Come, madam, come. 

Miss W. [Calling louder.] Help! help! 

Re-enter Primrose, with the gloves, l* d. — He stands 
astonished. — Miss Biffin and Miss Winter- 
blossom sink into the chairs. 

Pri. What, in the name of patience, is the matter ? 
I thought there were boxers in the house. Here's 
litter, here's confusion. My mahogany pembroke 
is almost shattered, and my cheffonier maimed for 
ever ! Dear, dear, dear MissW., what is the matter. 

Miss B. (r.) Don't go near" her, I beg, sir ; 



Scene I.] POPPING THE QUESTION. 23 

you'll give her another attack of the rheumatism; 
you'll pinch her arm again, I suppose. 

Pri* (c.) Oho ! that is the cause of dispute, eh ? — 
Egad ! I begin to thiuk myself of some consequence 
among the petticoats, at last! — Well, Miss B., 
where was the crime ? — Bless you ! you can't ex- 
pect us young bucks always to be circumspect ; 
'tis the fault of youth, Miss B. ; we are not stone 
or ice — we must have our little joke, if we die for 
it— eh, Miss B., eh 1 

Miss W. (l.) Come away from the insulting 
creature : she would have stabbed me if she could 
have found her scissors. 

Pri. Come, come, we must have no quarreling 
at this moment ; all must be smiles and harmony 
now : let me put the room a little to rights, and 
then I insist upon understanding the cause of this 
dispute, that I may make peace between you. 

[Puts the room in order, and draws a chair between 
them. 

Miss W. (l.) Mr. Primrose, you did me the ho- 
nour of a visit this morning. 

Pri. (c.) Yes, madam; and never did a visit at 
your dwelling confer more pleasure. 

MissB. (r.) Sir! 

Miss W. You hear, madam, you hear ; you spoke 
of an intended — of a desired — on your part, a de- 
sired union. 

Pri. 1 trust, desired on both sides ; the effect of 
reciprocity of feeling and mutual affection. 

Miss J3. But, to satisfy Miss Winterblossom, may 
I inquire the name of the future Mrs. Primrose ? 

Pri. The name ! I thought you were acquainted 
with it ; I thought that was perfectly known when 
I gained your approval to the intended event — that 
is, to my marriage with my beloved — my beautiful 
—my charming — 

Both. [Anxiously.] Well! well! 

Pri. Ellen Murray! 

Miss B. [Starting up.] Ellen Murray ! 

Miss W. Ellen Murray ! 



24 POPPING THE QUESTION. [Act L 

Miss B. You vile man ! 

Miss W. You base deceiver! 

Miss B. To trifle with one's feelings. 

Miss W. To touch a tender string, and then 
rudely snap it asunder. 

Pri. Ladies, hear me — 'tis your own mistake. 

Miss B. The lame attorney shall commence an 
action for breach of promise. 

Miss W. Betrayer of innocence ! 

Miss B. I never could have thought it — deluder ! 

Miss W. Deceiver. 

Miss B. Villain ! 

Miss W. Wretch ! 

PrL Bobbin! Bobbin! [Taking a hand-bell, and 
ringing violently.] Will you be silent, ladies? 

Miss W. Oh ! that I were a man. 

Miss B. That my brother Peter was alive ! 

Pri. Upon my honour, I'll send for a constable ! — 
[Snatching a chair to defend himself.] My life's in 
danger : I'll not be frightened out of my wits in my 
own house. Will you let me explain ? 

Miss B. Well, defend yourself ! defend yourself ! 

PrL I think it's time. I've scarcely breath to ut- 
ter a word. I asked each of you if you were ac- 
quainted with the circumstances of my attachment. 

Miss B. You did, sir. 

Miss W. Well, sir; well. 

Pri. I was told by each of you, that you were al- 
ready acquainted with it. 

Both. Go on, sir. 

Pri. And the question of approbation you have 
construed into an acceptance of your hands — when 
I never dreamed of you — never thought of you — 
would as soon marry my great aunt Charity as 
cither of you. You have roused ray passion, and 
if the truth will pop out, the fault is yours, not mine. 
[A loud knocking heard at the door, r. 

Bob. {Without, r. d.] Open the door, please. 

Pri. There's somebody come to my assistance at 
last. Dear me, I had fastened her out. Come in. 
[Opening the door, r.] Come in. 



Scene L] POPPING THE QUESTION. 25 

Re-enter Bobbin, r. d. Miss Winterblossom 
and Miss Biffin shake hands and embrace. 

Pri. Come in, before you behold my bleeding 
corpse. [Falls into a chair, r. c] I've run upon 
Scylla, and bumped against Charybdis ; Etna and 
Vesuvius have been in a state of eruption at the 
same moment, and I've been between the two fires. 
It's a mercy I'm alive. 

Bob. [Courtseying.] Sir, your wishes are fulfilled. 

Pri. Are they ? But you have made very little 
haste. Didn't you hear me ? You should have 
broken open the door. 

Bob. La, sir, we have made as much haste as 
possible. I'm sure my dear young missus has obey- 
ed your injunctions to the very letter. 

Pri. Making every haste to forward our union ? 
That's right : let me get married, I shall then have 
a protector. 

Bob. Your union ! No, sir ; her union. 

Pri, Well, well ; it's all the same. 

Bob. Oh, dear, no ! there's a vast difference be- 
tween you and Mr. Henry Thornton. 

Pri. [Staring.] Eh! Henry Thornton ! 

Bob. You told Miss Murray, as was, that she 
should have the man of her choice. 

Pri. Right. 

Bob. And desired her to lose no time. 

Pri. Exactly ! 

Bob. Then, when you stepped out, the man of 
her choice stepped in — the question was popped — » 
the answer was acceptation — the ring and license 
were ready ; and now allow me to introduce Mr. 
and Mrs. Henry Thornton. 

Enter Henry Thornton an d Ellen Murray, r.d. 

Bob. And there's the certificate. 

[Giving a marriage certificate to Primrose, who 

looks at it and the parties with astonishment. 
Pri. I'll never pop the question again, as long as 
I live. 



26 POPPING THE QUESTION. [Act I. 

Miss B. Don't say so, my clear Mr. Primrose ; 
you don't know what may happen. 

Miss W. There's a fate in marriage, my dear Mr. 
P. ; yours may take place yet. 

Ellen. I hope you are agreeably surprised, Mr. 
Primrose. 

Pri. Very ! Ah ! I see the mistake. Henry ! the 
same name. Give me your hand, Ellen ; take 
care of this hymeneal billet. [Returning certificate.] 
Yours, Mr. Thornton — be kind to her, you rogue. 
As for me, I've this consolation — My Lord North 
observed once, it was easier to get a wife than to 
get rid of one — no offence, I hope. However, the 
white gloves will yet be of service. There, ladies 
— [Presenting gloves to each.] Of course, we shall 
have a dance and a rubber in the evening ; and per- 
haps, after all, it may not be — indeed, I hope it 
may not be, the last time that I shall — Pop the 
Question. 



DISPOSITION OF THE CHARACTERS AT THE 
FALL OF THE CURTAIN. 



Henry. Ellen. Bob. Prim. MissB. Miss W. 

R.l "[.. 

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